


Surface Wounds

by spacecatsquad



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Pining, Season 2 spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-26 02:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9857075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacecatsquad/pseuds/spacecatsquad
Summary: Lonely, depressed, and hopelessly in love for the first time, Keith makes the decision to start being a more sociable member of Team Voltron. As his bonds with his teammates grow closer, so do his feelings towards Lance.Slow burn. Hunk is 18, Keith and Lance are 19, Shiro is 25, and Pidge is 14. Nonbinary!Pidge.





	1. Bonds

There was a special thrill that came with the nature of combat, one which Lance couldn’t quite put his finger on. Fighting was full of so much pressure, so much intensity; your entire life, and maybe even the lives of others, was on the line. One wrong move could be fatal. You had to know your own weaknesses as much as your own strengths, constantly remembering what to protect and what to exploit. And the rush after winning a battle was indescribable.

Keith was the perfect sparring partner because he knew exactly how to push you to your limits. He could summarize his opponents up in seconds and knew how to play the faults in their fighting style to his advantage. Which is exactly why Lance _hated_ being paired with him in training sessions.

“You’re leaving yourself wide open from behind,” Keith said as darted to the left. He gave Lance a quick kick to the back. When the boy’s knee-jerk reaction was to quickly spin around with the intention of decking him, Keith simply used this as an opportunity to grab ahold of Lance’s arm and pull him over his shoulder. He put his foot on his chest, which was breathing heavily. “How many times do we have to go over this? Don’t lose your cool so easily.”

“But you _hit me_ ,” Lance said in between breaths. “What do you want me to do, nothing?”

“I want you to think critically. You’re getting too caught up in the moment.” Keith sighed and took his foot off of Lance. He pulled the boy up to his feet. “Hit me.”

“What?”

He raised up his hand. “I want you to hit my palm as hard as you can.”

Lance pursed his lips. This had to be some kind of a trick. Still, the opportunity to punch Keith was too good to pass up, and so he focused all of his energy and might into that single punch.

“Weak,” Keith said simply as he shook his hand. “I barely felt that.”

He blinked. It was like his punch didn’t hurt him in the least, and he had given that his all. “W-what do you mean ‘weak’? I have muscle!”

Keith rolled his eyes. “It’s not _about_ muscle. It’s how you utilize it. Your form is terrible, Lance.” He paused. “Maybe we need to just start with the basics again…”

“Ugh,” Lance groaned. “You know what? I’m tired of this. I’m the sharpshooter for a reason. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this hand-to-hand stuff,” he said with a shrug.

“Your bayard can only save you so much. What’s going to happen when you don’t have it, or your opponent is too close for you to get in a good shot? You need to learn how to defend yourself. Stop being so lazy and put in some effort.”

“I’ve been putting in nothing _but_ effort!” He shouted loudly. “You ever think that maybe the reason I’m not learning anything is because you’re just a crummy teacher?”

“Oh, so is it also my fault that Pidge is better at fighting me than you are? They’re fourteen, Lance! Someone five years older than them should know how to fight even better than they do!”

“Pidge is only good at fighting because they’re so small and quick!”

“Hunk knows how to pack a punch, too; he can deck you so hard that you hit the ground.”

Lance let out an exasperated sigh. " _Fine_ , I get it. Out of every member of the team, I’m the only one who sucks at this. Thanks for the pep talk, coach; ya nailed it." He took off his helmet and began to walk away.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking off this smelly armor and I’m gonna take a nap. I’m done for the day,” he said sharply.

Keith sighed. Lance was _infuriating_. He knew that if he’d just try hard enough, if he’d just actually listen to what Keith was saying, that he’d be capable at hand-to-hand combat. Instead (and as usual), he was letting his ego get in his way.

Then again, he was partly to blame for today’s fiasco, too; you don’t exactly put someone down when you’re trying to motivate them. He should have never compared his status to the rest of the team, because he _knew_ that everyone learned at their own pace. Pidge was just a quick and eager learner, and Hunk had brute strength on his side once he learned how to use it.

There was a lot of potential in Lance. When it came to sharpshooting, you couldn’t find someone better. Lance knew not only where to strike but _when_ to strike; he had an eye at looking for a great opening. If he’d just work on his technique, he could be an excellent fighter.

 _Was_ Keith a crummy teacher? Pidge and Hunk never complain during their training sessions with him. In fact, they express gratitude. And in return, Pidge educates Keith on how to be more agile, while Hunk helps him with his strength training. Keith had to admit, too, that when it’s his turn to practice shooting moving targets on the battlefield, Lance makes sure to help Keith be more precise with his shots. He’s cocky about it, sure, but he gets the job done. So where exactly did the blame lay—Lance’s poor attitude or Keith’s poor mentoring skills?

Truthfully, all of this _really_ stemmed from the fact that Lance just hated that Keith was better than him at something. Because Lance just hated Keith. Thinking about this fact made Keith sick to his stomach. He didn’t want anyone to hate him, let alone _him_ , because as much as he’d hate to admit it, part of him liked Lance. A lot. But he chalked that up to the fact that it’s extremely lonely in the castle, and that at nineteen, the last thing you want is to be lonely. It’s not like he had actual feelings for him or anything like that.

When he was done showering off the sweat from this afternoon’s exercise, he realized that he was left alone with the person he hated the most—himself. Laying back on his bed, he groaned as a thousand thoughts raced through his mind. Some were reminding him that he wasn’t good enough; others were fearful images of his teammates dying and him being powerless to do anything about it. A mixture of self-hatred and deep fear, these intrusive thoughts had been plaguing him for weeks.

He knew he should talk to someone about it. He really did. But it wasn’t as if there was a psychologist in the castle, and the only person he could really go to would be Shiro. That was out of the question, considering how much that man had on his plate already; the last thing Keith was going to do was add more weight onto his shoulders. And so he turned over onto his side to try and sleep, because sleep was the only respite he got from the bombardment of his own negativity.

Dreams were much better than thoughts. In his dreams, he felt so much safer. There was no war raging on. There weren’t the lives of _billions_ at stake. There was simply him and La—he clenched his eyes shut and tried to whisk that thought away as quickly as he did with the rest of them. _No_ , he reminded himself, _don’t do that_. _Dream of something else this time_. _Please_.

But he didn’t. When he finally calmed the storm of thoughts in his head and closed his eyes for a nap, he found himself in a familiar room: Lance’s room. Suddenly the door to the bathroom opened, and out walked Lance in nothing but a towel around his waist, smiling eagerly at him. The Red Paladin’s mouth hung open slightly from the shock of the sight, and so Lance moved forward until they were only inches apart. He tilted Keith’s head back and gently kissed his neck. Keith squirmed at the tickling sensations. " _Lance_!" He moaned with delight.

" _Lan—_ " He woke himself up before the name could fully escape his mouth. He looked at the clock. Two hours had passed, and he wished down deep that his dream felt like it had lasted that long. _You’re only dreaming of him because it’s been so long_ , he said to himself. He bit his lip and let his hands wander lower along his body. If this was the only way to clear his mind, then so be it.

* * *

Later that evening he managed to find Lance, along with Hunk, in the lounge. He hesitated as to whether or not he wanted to join them. Sometimes the tension between he and Lance went away as quickly as it came to be, and other times it lingered there for days. He was about to turn around when he heard his name being called by Hunk. “Hey Keith,” he said, “What’cha up to?”

“He probably tracked me down just to remind me that I can’t fight to save my life,” Lance said bitterly. “Or have you come to apologize?”

Keith clenched his fists. “I have nothing to apologize _for_ ,” he said firmly. “If you’d just—” He paused. It wasn’t worth it. “I just came to relax,” he said in a hushed tone. “Or is that not allowed?”

“It’s a free county,” Lance said with a shrug. “Err, I mean, y’know… spaceship-castle… thing.”

Keith took a seat opposite of the pair, paying mind not to look at Lance. God knows that one wrong look could be enough to start another fight.

Uncomfortable, Hunk cleared his throat. “Sooooo,” he said as he searched for a way to ease the palpable tension, “um… How about that weather lately, huh? Crazy, right?”

Keith furrowed his brow. “Hunk, we’re in space; we don’t _have_ any weather.”

“Do meteor showers count as weather?” Lance said as he cocked his head to the side.

“I don’t know, but this is definitely something we should get to the bottom of,” Hunk said as he slowly stood up. “And you know what? I’m gonna take one for the team and leave this pleasant, relaxing atmosphere and go ask Pidge,” he said as he strolled out of the room. It was silent for a few seconds before his voice echoed throughout the hall: “No need to follow me! It’s a one man job!”

Keith and Lance blinked at each other in surprise before they darted their glaze elsewhere. At least ten minutes of awkward silence passed before Keith finally broke the ice. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I got too frustrated that you’re still not picking up on what I’ve been trying to teach you. I should have just gone through the routine with you again.”

“I’m _seriously_ trying,” Lance said, his eyes still averting Keith’s. “I’m just not good at this sort of stuff. Or anything, really,” he grumbled.

“Oh come on,” Keith said as he rolled his eyes, “don’t give me the woe-is-me schtick. You’re good at plenty of things.”

Lance finally turned to look him in the eyes. “Name three.”

“W-well, you’re a great sharpshooter! And you…” He paused. Holy quiznak, now was _not_ the time to be drawing a blank. “And you’re a great pilot! And…” He shook his head. “This is stupid!”

“See! You can’t even name three things that you think I’m good at!”

“I—my brain just froze because you put me on the spot! Besides, I bet you can’t name three things that _I’m_ good at.”

“Swordplay, stealth, leadership,” Lance shouted back. “And,” he added, “brown-nosing Shiro.”

Keith groaned and rubbed his temples. “Lance, you’re good at plenty of things. I’m not going to stroke your ego by making a list just because it’s a little bruised.”

“You see? That’s _exactly_ why I hate you so much. You never put yourself in my shoes.”

The words stung hard. Another reminder that he hated him was another reminder to repress his pining as much as possible. Keith didn’t think of himself as a sensitive person, but everyone has a threshold and Lance had pushed him to the end of it. He walked away from the lounge silently, making sure not to open his eyes until he was alone in the hallway for fear that when he did, they’d be much too watery.

* * *

That night, he couldn’t sleep. He kept hearing those words repeating in his head over and over. Lance’s tone had been so matter-of-fact. And it wasn’t just him expressing that he hated Keith, but him expressing just how much he did.

He stared at the ceiling. If Lance hated him, did that mean the others did as well? Were they just better at hiding it? Outside of training, he rarely hung out with anyone, and if he did, it was with Shiro—someone six years older than him. He just couldn’t socialize the way that the rest of the team did.

If Lance wasn’t hanging out with Hunk, for example, then you could find him arguing with Pidge over video games and dumb action movies; if you couldn’t find Pidge hanging out with Lance, you’d find them making repairs with Hunk’s help. Likewise, if you couldn’t find Hunk making repairs, you’d find him in the kitchen, where Coran gleefully volunteered to taste his recipes; if Coran wasn’t doing that, then he was helping Allura by making repairs to the castle and making sure everything was functional. And if Allura wasn’t busy piloting the ship, then she was going over battle strategies with Shiro; if Shiro wasn’t going over tactics with Allura, then he was checking up on the rest of the team.

Meanwhile, if you couldn’t find Keith training, then you could just find him sitting alone in his room doing nothing but staring at the walls. He sighed. Why was he so depressed all of the time? He _wanted_ to be able to be a more active member of the team, to be able to form the kind of bonds that the rest of them had. The only one he felt a bond with was Red, but talking to a possibly magical and gigantic, mechanical space cat could only get you so far. He wanted more than that.

He groaned. How could he call Lance lazy and claim that he wasn’t putting in any effort with his training when he definitely wasn’t putting in any effort with making friends? _But maybe they’re avoiding you on purpose_ , he thought to himself. No. That couldn’t be it. That was just the negativity talking. Right?

* * *

That morning, he made a conscious decision to start making an effort to be more sociable with the rest of Team Voltron. Lance was his first target—incidentally, of course. He knocked hard on the Blue Paladin’s door. “Lance, it’s Keith. Open up.”

After a few seconds, the doors swished open, revealing a _very_ tired and _very_ angry Lance, who looked like he was still half asleep. “Are we under attack?”

“What? No.”

“Fantastic, wake me up when we are,” he said with a yawn as he closed the doors behind him. This was only met with even louder knocking from Keith. He opened the doors back up and let the boy into his room. “What do you want?” He groaned. “And why do you want it so early? Look, it’s pitch black outside!”

Keith sighed. “Lance, it’s _always_ pitch black outside.” He rubbed his temples. Suddenly this didn’t seem like such a good idea. “I just wanted to apologize about yesterday.”

“You already tried that once and ya blew it big time. You really wanna take your chances again?”

He could swear that one of his eyelids were twitching. No one got under his skin as well as Lance did. “You were right,” he said calmly.

“I already like _this_ apology much more.”

“Can I just get this over with?”

“Fine, fine. But make it quick.”

“I don’t put myself in your shoes. Or anyone’s shoes. I’m not really a people person,” he said with a sigh. “Empathy.”

Lance raised his brow. “What?”

“The third thing you’re great it—it’s empathy. You’re a very understanding person. You care about people.” This was all making him feel very sick to his stomach, but the dam had already broken and so he figured he might as well keep letting the truth flow, no matter how disgustingly gushy it was. “I do the right thing because I know it’s what I have to do logically. You do the right thing because you know it’s what you have to do… y’know… in your heart, or whatever.” He cleared his throat.

“Oh.” Suddenly Lance didn’t seem like he was very sleepy anymore. He took a seat on his bed. “Thanks,” he said softly. Neither of them said anything, their trademark awkward silence again filling the air, until Lance said something that Keith had been longing to hear: “I don’t actually hate you, you know.”

He could feel his heart pounding out of his chest. “Yeah, I know.” He didn’t. He thought for sure that Lance’s cries of hatred towards him were genuine. The question was whether or not Lance was being sincere _now_.

“I just say that stuff 'cuz you make me angry sometimes.”

“But _how_ _?_ ” Keith asked. “I’m not intentionally trying to upset you.”

Lance sighed. “I dunno. You just seem like you have it all together and stuff. More than I do, at least.”

“Are you actually saying you’re jealous of me?” Keith asked with a smirk.

“Aaaand I already regret trying to be honest with you.”

“No,” Keith said as he shook his head. He tried his best to stop himself from laughing, but a few chuckles managed to slip out. “It’s just—I’m not someone to be jealous of, is all.”

“Yeah, well…” Lance shrugged, his words trailing off. “Anyway, I’m officially past my daily limit of feelings and I haven’t even had breakfast yet.” He was just about out of his room before he turned around and looked Keith in the eyes. “You know, you should try eating with other people for a change, instead of doing it by yourself.”

Keith watched him walk away. _Stop being lazy and put in some effort_ , he reminded himself. “Hey Lance,” he said as he followed the boy down the hall and towards the kitchen, “wait up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written anything in literal years, so forgive me if I'm a little rusty. I'm writing this chapter-by-chapter, so if you want to see more, /please/ comment and tell me so I know to devote time to this project. If not, the first chapter's conclusion can make this work as a standalone piece (although the name won't make sense, since its title derives from something in an upcoming chapter I have planned).


	2. Lone-Wolf

He wasn’t upset. So Shiro had picked Lance to come with him to investigate a distress signal instead of him. Big deal! That was fine. It’s not like Keith had proven time and time again that he was the most capable member of the team in terms of combat, and it’s not as if Shiro had told him that _he’d_ be his successor as leader of Voltron. Who _would_ want someone so qualified to be the one to accompany them into unknown, potentially hostile territory?

“Dude, you’re _so_ mad that you didn’t get picked that it’s actually kinda hilarious,” Hunk said with a grin.

Suddenly blushing and much more aware of what was happening around him, Keith stopped staring out into blank space. “I’m not mad,” he said with a slight pout, crossing his arms.

“Hunk, leave him alone,” Pidge scolded. “Besides, he’s not mad, he’s jealous,” they added very matter-of-factly.

“I’m not jealous!”

Pidge and Hunk were snickering now, to the point that Keith felt his cheeks get even warmer than before—a fact that they quickly pointed out to support their claims. “Relax,” Hunk said, “we’re just teasing you. But now you know how the rest of us feel when _you_ always get to go on the cool missions.”

He wanted to protest but he quickly shut his mouth because he had to admit, Hunk had a point. It would look like Shiro was starting to play favorites if he didn’t let a different member of the team tag along with him on a mission. Besides, out of everyone, Lance was the one who definitely needed the extra experience. Hunk and Pidge had both proven that they could save the day when it came down to it, and Lance and Hunk’s success in their underwater adventure boiled down to dumb luck rather than skill; if they hadn’t had outside help, they never would have made it out of there.

What truly was stressing him out, though, was the fact that they couldn’t get in touch with either of the other Paladins due to the planet’s raging ionic storm, which just so happened to have started moments after Blue had reached its surface. Luck already wasn’t on their side, and Keith had a gnawing feeling in the pit of his gut that something was going wrong down there. Shiro could handle himself better than any of them, but what if something happened down there that was too big for him to take on? Could Lance _really_ be trusted with saving the day?

To be fair, Keith didn’t think that Lance was incapable of doing so; he just didn’t know if Lance had really reached his potential yet. In the days following that disastrous training session, Lance and Keith seemed to have found some sort of groove. He wasn’t sure if his teaching was coming across better, if Lance was finally starting to listen, or if it was a combination of the two, but he did know that Lance was starting to get the hang of things. He still needed to work on his offensive stances (and how to make sure that your punch packs some heft, because holy quiznak, he _had_ to start throwing stronger punches), but his defensive maneuvers were coming along great.

Keith pursed his lips. If he was being too critical of Lance, it’s only because he was worried that something would happen to him. “Well, I can’t just sit here and worry.”

“Then don’t worry,” Pidge said. “They’ll be fine. It’s only a storm. Just distract yourself until they come back.”

That seemed so easy to say yet so hard to do. How could he _not_ worry? Was not worrying an ability that came natural to most people? If so, it was one that he didn’t possess. So he simply frowned at Pidge’s response and went back to looking at floor.

Hunk and Pidge glared at each other. They had never seen Keith look so distraught, though this was largely due to the fact that they rarely saw Keith at all. And so Hunk came up with the idea that the team deserved some snacks and requested Keith’s assistance with making his cookies.

His knee-jerk reaction was to decline and retire to his room, though he reminded himself that his newfound goal of _actually_ being a friend to his teammates meant that he needed to put forth some effort into activities like this. He had never actually been alone with Hunk before, save for training sessions, where the last thing anyone wanted to do was talk. While this made him a little uneasy, Hunk didn’t seem to mind in the least. In fact, he seemed as if he was happy that they finally had time alone as he gleefully guided Keith along a tour of the kitchen (Keith had insisted that he knew exactly what a kitchen was, but Hunk insisted that he had to see it from a chef’s point of view to truly understand it).

They settled into a nice rhythm of Hunk calling out directions and Keith following them, and by the time the cookies were in the oven, Keith had to admit that he was at least a little calmer now.

“So,” Hunk said as he took a seat at the table and motioned for Keith to join him, “what’s up?”

“I, uh… What do you mean?”

“I mean, what’s up? You know, like, with you? What have you been up to, what have you been doing, that kinda stuff.”

“Oh. Well, I, um…” He paused. He didn’t have anything to talk about because he didn’t do anything. Granted there was only so much you could do aboard a spaceship, but it just occurred to him that everyone else had _some_ sort of an outside interest except for him. “I don’t really do much,” he admitted shyly.

“Well what _do_ you do with your free time?”

“I train.”

“No, I mean, outside of that. Like when it’s just you by yourself and you’re not training, what do you do?”

“I just sort of…” His words trailed off. Hunk could tell that this was as good of an answer as he was going to get, because he didn’t try to rebuke the response.

A few seconds of tense silence passed before Hunk asked simply, “Is there anything you wanna talk about?”

Keith shrugged. “Not really. Why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s just… The whole ‘lone-wolf’ thing has to get old sometimes, y’know? If there’s something you wanna talk about, then you can talk about it with me. Or Pidge, or Allura, or Lance—even Coran! I know Shiro’s your go-to guy but the rest of us are here for you, too.”

He nodded. Although it was nice to hear that from Hunk, he had trouble believing it; he couldn’t shake the sneaking suspicion that, when he did actually go to one of them, he’d be shut down. Hunk’s words were simply just that—words. They didn’t mean anything, surely, and were just said out of courtesy. Still, he appreciated the thought.

* * *

By the time Keith started to get sleepy and returned to his room, contact still had yet to have been made below on the planet’s surface. He tossed and turned in his bed, finding it difficult to fall asleep. He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. _They’re fine,_ he reassured himself. _He’s fine._

In his dream, the war with the Galra was over and Voltron was no longer needed. And so one by one, each member of the team faded away, all heading down their own path. All except for Lance, that is. His image still remained, and he was smiling like Keith had never seen him smile before. He was used to Lance’s smirks and grins, but an actual smile? That he had never seen. Lance reached his arm out, motioning for Keith to grab his hand. When he did, he opened his eyes.

There was a pounding at his door. Groggy from being woken up so early, he found Pidge outside, wearing a concerned look. “Pidge? What’s going on?”

“The storm finally stopped; they’re back.” Just as Keith began to sigh a breath of relief, Pidge stopped him. “But… There was an accident.”

He was certain that his heart was audibly pounding. His mouth was suddenly bone dry, and he found himself licking his lips, desperate for moisture. _Focus. Maybe it’s not what you think. Don’t jump to conclusions._ “What do you mean?”

“Everything’s fine. Well, it is now, at least; nothing a healing pod won’t fix.”

“Lance?”

Pidge nodded their head, and Keith’s felt an icy chill go down his spine. Lance had been injured. But how bad were the injuries? “Where’s Shiro?” He asked, his voice as calm as he could make it.

“Everyone’s down in the Med Bay. I came up to get you.”

“Thanks,” he said with a small but warm smile. The pair made their way back to the Med Bay, where the rest of the team was being debriefed on the events that had transpired by Shiro. But Keith wasn’t interested in that right now. He wanted to see Lance.

Part of him wish he hadn’t. Lance, upright in a healing pod, had bad cuts on his cheeks and arms. His hair was messy and tangled, and his neck showed cuts as well. There was the unmistakable dark red tinge of dried blood on his clothed abdomen, and glancing over to the side, Keith noticed something odd: Lance’s Paladin armor had been punctured by deep claw marks. He swallowed hard. “What happened?” He asked to no one in particular. Shiro motioned for him to join the rest of the group and move away from the pod, and when he shook his head in refusal, the older man frowned slightly.

Shiro knew. He hadn’t known for very long—a couple of weeks, give or take—but he knew how Keith felt about Lance. Which is to say, he knew that Keith felt _something_ but wasn’t quite sure what it was. The boy had confessed it to him one evening when they were alone in the Lions Bay. (“It’s not like I _like_ him or anything,” he had said. “It’s just that… He makes my gut hurt sometimes. Someone you actually _like_ shouldn’t do that to you. Right?”) This made it all the more infuriating that Shiro was playing this off as if it were no big deal.

“We got attacked by some pretty nasty creatures down there,” he said as he put his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “They outnumbered us. So we ran. But one caught up to him pretty quickly and…” He sighed. “We made it back to Blue, thankfully. I did all I could with the medical supplies there; I got the bleeding to quit, at least.”

“You shouldn’t have taken him down there,” Keith said coldly, and in a tone low enough so only Shiro could hear him. “There should have been _at least_ another person.”

“He had been begging to come along on a mission for weeks. So I let him, just like sometimes I let you. We didn’t know that we’d run into such bad trouble down there. But Lance knew the risks when he decided to come with me.” He tightened his grip on Keith’s shoulder, whispering into his ear, “I know you’re upset right now. But you need to keep your cool.”

Keith clenched his fights tightly. Shiro was right. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene. He walked away from the pod and joined the rest of the group. “Coran, how long do you think he’ll be in there?”

“I’d wager a couple of quintants. But his recovery could be quicker than we’re expecting. His wounds aren’t _too_ deep.”

Keith turned his gaze back towards Shiro. “Any luck with the distress signal?”

“There’s no telling how long that thing had been going off. The ship was completely abandoned, and it looked like it had been for awhile.”

“So all of this,” he gestured towards Lance, “was for nothing?” He sighed. “I’m going back to bed.”

“We all should,” Allura said softly. She looked at Shiro. " _You_ especially need rest in a proper bed. I still think you’d benefit from at least a few varga in one of the pods, but it’s your choice."

And with that, the team disassembled, all of them shaken up by the sight of Lance to varying degrees, no matter how much any of them wanted to admit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a shorter chapter, but I wanted to get this up to get the story rolling and gauge more interest in it. As always, leave a comment or a kudos if you'd like to see more; and I'm certainly not going to complain if you'd share this fic. Again, keep in mind that I'm getting back into the swing of fiction writing after about five years of a hiatus, so if you have any critical feedback in terms of my writing ability, it's not unwarranted—I actually welcome it.
> 
> I'm shooting to get Chapter Three up some time this weekend, but it will definitely be up some time next week at the latest.


	3. Nightmares

Keith didn't get any sleep that night. How could he? It was bad enough that Lance was injured, but he still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that a creature possessed claws strong enough to actually rip through their Paladin armor. It seemed like such a frightening thing to imagine, and though he tried his hardest not to, his mind kept wandering to images of Lance being pounced on and attack; Lance screaming wildly for help; Lance bleeding everywhere; Lance begging Shiro not to let the others know just how badly he had been hurt.

_Stop it,_ he told himself. _You're just making this worse._ He stared up at his ceiling, his stomach doing flip-flops. Why did it have to be Lance? He should have protested when Shiro made his pick; he should have convinced him that _he_ was the one to take on the mission. Not Lance.

Lance. Just saying his name was enough to make Keith feel uneasy. He tossed and turned until he found a comfortable enough position to try and sleep, but his thoughts kept going back to him. Not the injured Lance in the healing pod down below, but Lance in general. The Lance who screamed at him during training practice. The Lance who constantly tried to one-up him. The Lance who got under his skin, who enraged him, who frustrated him, who made him feel like he was going crazy.

He squeezed his pillow tightly in his arms, imagining he was holding him. He felt so _stupid_ for doing so, as if it were the most ridiculous thing in the world, but all he wanted right now was to hold him. Keith wanted to cradle him in his arms so he could know that Lance was okay.

His nausea returned, tenfold. Did this mean that he had feelings for him? He wasn't sure what having feelings actually, well, felt like. Anger was easy to label, as was sadness or joy. But how do you correctly label an emotion that you've never experienced before? How do you know when what you're feeling is something as strong as _that_ emotion—the one that you can't even bring yourself to say you might feel?

* * *

The hardest part of the next day was pretending as if everything was okay. Even Hunk seemed to be doing fine, and Lance was his best friend. So why was Keith barely holding it together? He declined Hunk and Pidge's offer to have breakfast, instead opting to take a quick trip to the Med Bay to check on Lance. It's there that he found Shiro, who looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep. Keith didn't say anything as he moved towards Lance's healing pod to get a closer look.

"The cuts are healing nicely," Shiro said, startling Keith a little. "I'd bet money that he's out by tomorrow."

Keith bit his lip. There were a lot of things he wanted to say to him; he had a lot of accusations to make and a lot of blame to place. But he fought hard to not let the brewing combination of anger and fear come to the surface. "That's good," he said softly. He placed his hand on the pod's glassy window, wishing that he could reach out and touch Lance.

"How are you doing?" Shiro asked as he approached him.

"It's not me you should be worrying about; I'm not the one who got hurt."

"You know what I mean, Keith."

And he did. Still, he would rather not answer the question, if only because he didn't know how to put into words the way he was feeling. It was a little bit more intense than just being terrified, and the word "helpless" didn't seem strong enough. It was an odd mixture of a lot of things—then again, wasn't it always that way when it came to Lance? He sighed heavily and turned around to look Shiro in the eyes. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "Seeing him in there... it just makes me feel so powerless."

Shiro was silent for a bit before asking him, "Are you sure that you don't... _feel_ a certain way about him?"

He shook his head. "I don't." (He did.) "Look, there's nothing wrong with just caring about someone, is there?"

"Of course not."

"I mean, he's my _teammate_."

Shiro stared at him, trying to find the right way to say something that could come across in a very wrong way. "I just hope that you trust me enough to be able to tell me if you did feel that way. As far as I'm concerned, we're brothers, Keith; we don't need to keep any secrets from each other."

"Then I guess it's a good thing that I'm not keeping any secrets," he said flatly.

Shiro frowned. "Yeah, I guess it is."

* * *

Lance was out of his pod by the following afternoon. He assured everyone that he was fine ("Just a little bruised. But nothing someone as strong as me can't handle," he said with a flirtatious wink to Allura; this was promptly met with all of them rolling their eyes in annoyance) and said that they were crazy if they were even worried about him, though he did appreciate it. His only real complaint was that his Paladin armor still hadn't been repaired, and he was a little upset that his favorite t-shirt was now stained with blood as well, especially since Coran said that no, they did not have "special space bleach" to get rid of it ("Wait, so we're in a super technologically advanced castle-ship, one of you can use _space magic,_ but no one can get stains out of my clothes?").

Keith should have felt happy that he had recovered so well, but something wasn't sitting right with him. Lance seemed to be doing _too_ good, as if he were putting on a performance. Throughout the day he kept a close eye on him, but he didn't find any definitive proof that Lance was faking his recovery. He did, however, shoot him down when he asked to schedule a training session for tomorrow. "There's no way that you're up for that," he said firmly.

"I'm telling you, I'm fine. I'm just a little sore."

"Then we can train again when you're not."

Lance groaned and stuck out his tongue. "You're no fun."

"I dunno," Hunk chimed in, "I'm kinda with Keith on this one; you really shouldn't be back in action so soon. You gotta rest up."

"Are you kidding? I've been doing nothing _but_ resting for the past few days! I'm serious, I'm _fine._ "

"Lance, just get some rest for tonight and then we'll see how fine you're doing tomorrow," Shiro commanded. "We're not going to risk you getting injured again so soon just because you want to punch someone."

* * *

It had been some time after everyone had retired to their rooms that evening that Keith heard a scream. He wasn't entirely convinced that it hadn't been from his dream since he had just started to doze off, but his instincts kicked in and he ran out into the hallway. Pidge was outside too, running to the left. So it hadn't been a dream. Keith quickly followed their lead.

Lance had been the one screaming, and since their rooms were so close to his, only Pidge and Keith had heard it. "Do you need us to get you anything?" Pidge asked politely, fighting back a yawn. They didn't seem nearly as concerned as Keith was, which served as a reminder that he needed to dial it back.

Lance shook his head. "Nah. It was just a nightmare. Sorry for waking you guys up." His gaze was fixated on the wall in front of him, and his voice sounded slightly off. "It's fine. You guys can go back to bed."

Pidge and Keith looked at each other, now both of them worried and unsure of what to do. Keith cocked his head, motioning for Pidge to leave, assuring them that he could take it from here. They nodded and went back to their room.

"You sure you're okay?" Keith asked, moving closer towards Lance's bed.

"Yeah. I'm fine..." He let his voice trail off and didn't break his stare at the wall until Keith snapped his fingers in front of him, startling him a bit. "Sorry," he said as he shook his head. He turned his gaze to Keith. "You can go."

Keith sighed and sat down next to him. "What was the dream about?" Lance didn't say anything. "That bad, huh?"

He nodded. "I just... really don't want to talk about it," he said quietly.

Keith almost protested, but after taking a good look at Lance, he realized that he wasn't saying that to get Keith to leave; he was saying it because he _physically_ couldn't talk about it. The boy was shaking slightly and his hair was stuck to his clammy forehead. His breathing was unusually shallow and heavy. "I'm getting Shiro."

"No!" Lance grabbed Keith's arm. "I know Pidge won't say anything, but you have to promise me that you'll keep this between us. _Please,_ " he pleaded. He gripped Keith's arm tighter.

Keith could have melted from his touch. "Lance, you're clearly not as fine as you think you are. You don't think that someone like Shiro should know about that?"

Lance frowned. "It was just one bad dream. Okay?"

He rolled his eyes. Why did everything with Lance have to be so difficult? "Alright. But if it happens again—"

"It won't."

"But if it _does—_ "

"Yeah, yeah; I'll tell Shiro about it."

"Okay then," he said. "Now will you let go of my arm? It's starting to get numb."

"Sorry."

Keith rubbed the spot where Lance had been holding onto him. Who knew that Lance had such a strong grip? "Do you at least want me to get Hunk?"

"No. I'm okay now, really." He turned, laying down on his back. His breathing was starting to return to normal, but for some reason, he felt absolutely exhausted and drained from what transpired over the last five minutes. All he wanted right now was to try and go back to sleep. "Hey, Keith?" He asked as the boy was heading out the door.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

He nodded and went back to his room. Finally alone, he became aware of how hard his own heart was thumping. Seeing Lance so vulnerable and shaken up like that... He clenched his eyes shut and tried to push the image out of his mind. _He's fine now. He's entitled to a nightmare. Everyone is—you get them, too,_ he told himself. Except he didn't get them after being mauled by wild creatures and spending days in a healing pod, and the idea that Lance had possibly relived that memory made his stomach knot.

Would he feel the same if it had been Shiro who had gotten hurt instead? Would he still feel so powerless about not being able to actually help the situation? Or was it all because this had happened to Lance? And if it was just because it happened to Lance, it still raised the question as to _why_ it affected him so much. _Just admit it._ But he didn't want to.

Was there really anything wrong with having feelings for him? Lance was attractive, sure; he'd never deny that he lusted after him, if only a little. But how do you _not_ end up lusting after someone attractive when you spend so much time together?

And yet, if it was only physical attraction he felt, then that didn't explain why he cared _so much_ about him. He cared about the rest of the team, sure, but he knew it wasn't in the same way.

Okay, so, maybe he did _like_ Lance. Big deal. It wasn't like that admitting to feeling something towards him was some grand gesture of love or anything. It was a crush. And a pointless one at that—nothing would happen between them.

_That_ thought made his stomach twist even tighter. So did this mean that he actually did want something to happen between them? What was he seriously pining for a relationship? _You're being stupid now. Go back to sleep._ But sleep meant that he might dream about Lance again, and so that seemed like the last thing that he wanted to do right now.

He groaned. He felt like a complete idiot. Emotions were so complicated to deal with and he wondered why some people actively pursued relationships when liking someone seemed so difficult.

A wave of guilt washed over him when he remembered Shiro's offering his ear to him. Lying to Shiro was bad enough, but he felt even more guilty for lying to himself. Confessing that he did care about Lance in _that_ way shouldn't have been so difficult.

He felt his eyes start to water and debated if tonight would be one of _those_ nights, a night where he allowed himself the privilege of letting the dam break. When he felt the warm tears start to flow down his cheeks, he realized that he had made his decision without realizing it.

It wasn't that he was crying because he could finally admit that he liked Lance; it was because he was just so _frustrated_ with himself. It was so easy to say that Lance made everything difficult, or that Hunk wasn't sincere about Keith coming to him or the rest of the team if he needed them. In reality, the problem was that he just couldn't get it through his thick skull that it was okay to _feel_.

This was only made more frustrating by the fact that he was aware of the problem. It seemed to Keith that if you were aware of an issue, you could solve the issue. Only he wasn't sure how to solve the fact that he just didn't _truly_ trust any of the people that he _should_ trust, or even himself. And of all people, isn't that the one person he should be able to be honest with?

He was sobbing now, and he hated hearing himself sob because he was such an ugly crier sometimes. But the release felt good. So much had been building up for so long; it had been months since he cried at all, let alone like this. Crying felt so good and so natural, and it relieved his anger even better than training did.

And so he cried because Lance had gotten hurt; he cried because he lied to Shiro; he lied because he knew that, prior to becoming a Paladin, his life had been so difficult that he learned to not trust himself and he wasn't sure if he ever could; and he cried because, at the end of the day, this was the one time he actually got to feel something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand there's some angst. Thanks for being patient as I dish this out ever-so-slowly. This chapter is lacking about ~800 words that I'd like it to have, but I truly felt like I said everything I could for a single chapter. As always, I encourage everyone to leave a comment if you liked the chapter or there's anything about it that you wish to discuss with me! 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for their encouragement; I only hope that I'm returning the favor by producing good content. It means the absolute world to me to get kudos and comments, and to see people bookmarking this story because they want to see where it leads.


	4. Fragility

The following morning, Keith felt the best he had in months. A little emotionally drained, sure, but it was as if he had a newfound sense of clarity. Last night's crying spell proved to be greatly beneficial.

He knocked softly on Lance's door, fearful of waking up Pidge so early because holy quiznak, _that_ was something he had learned not to do the hard way a few months ago. To his surprise, Lance answered after just a few knocks. "Oh," he quietly said when he opened the door, "I thought you'd be Hunk."

"Well, sorry to disappoint you," he said as he walked into the room despite Lance's small protests. "Close the door."

Lance let out a small _hmph_ but did as he was told. "Alright, what is it?" His tone was completely different from last night— more energetic and feisty—which was a great relief.

"Did you get any sleep?"

His face softened at the reference to the evening's events. "Yeah, eventually," he said as he took a seat on his bed. "It was a rough night. But I'm fine." He paused. " _Actually_ fine."

Keith studied him carefully. He had to admit, Lance looked a lot better than he did yesterday. There was a certain air about him, the same one that drew Keith to him in the first place. He wasn't exactly radiating with the same energy he usually had, but he was getting there. "That's good. You had me worried."

"You're not the only one who can handle himself, Keith; I don't need the kid gloves."

He scoffed. "Are you saying you wouldn't be concerned about me if the situation were reversed?"

Lance pursed his lips. "I just don't want any special treatment," he said, avoiding the question.

"I guess that's good, considering how I wasn't planning on giving you any." Lance was _seriously_ on the defensive this morning. "Look, I'll go if you want me to go. I only wanted to make sure you were doing okay after what happened."

"Sorry," Lance said with a sigh, "I just _really_ don't want anyone treating me differently because of what happened to me back there. That's why I don't want you telling anyone about last night. If it happens again, fine, I'll deal with it and go to Shiro; but right now I don't need anyone having even more of a reason to treat me like I'm suddenly fragile."

"I think you've proven that you're definitely far from fragile, Lance," he said with a small smile. "So don't think training is going to get any easier when we get back to it; I'm still going to beat you up. Promise."

Lance rolled his eyes. This was the first time in a while that the two of them had been able to carry on an _actual_ conversation outside of their Paladin duties. It felt good, and when Keith noticed the slightest hint of a grin on Lance's face, there was a warm fluttering sensation in his chest. He felt simultaneously incredibly happy and incredibly nauseous.

* * *

"So are you in love with him?" Well, Shiro sure didn't beat around the bush, did he? The question was like a punch to the gut, and Keith felt even sicker to his stomach than he did when he left Lance's room. Maybe confessing to Shiro so quickly wasn't the best idea.

"Would you keep your voice down?!" Keith asked, shushing him loudly. "Pidge is _right_ across the hall!"

Shiro stifled a small laugh. "Apologies," he said, lowering his voice. "So, are you?"

Keith shook his head. "That's definitely too strong of a word. But sometimes he's all I can think about," he admitted. "And he pops up in my dreams every now and again."

"Keith, I know we're close, but we don't need to be _that_ close."

He rolled his eyes. "Not _those_ types of dreams," he hissed.

Shiro couldn't hold back his giggling this time, and the sight of it all was _surreal_ to say the least. The Black Paladin was usually so serious and tense; seeing him enjoying himself was rare. "I'm sorry," he said as he cleared his throat. "I'm not trying to make fun of you, I'm just trying to lighten the mood." He put his hand on Keith's shoulder. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this."

"There's no one else that I trust enough to tell," Keith shrugged.

"It doesn't have to be like that, you know. We're a team— _all_ of us, not just the other Paladins. Everyone's entitled to their secrets; I have them, and I promise you that everyone else in this castle does, too. But there's a big difference between keeping a secret because you want to and because you think you have to."

Keith sighed. The last thing he wanted right now was a lecture, and it was made more annoying by the fact that Shiro was right; he didn't _have_ to keep his secret, per se. The rest of the team (sans Lance) may have figured out what Pidge was hiding before they said anything, but the fact remained that they still trusted the rest of the team enough to be comfortable about being honest with themselves in front of them. He had to admit that it would be nice to be able to say that he trusted them enough to come clean about his own secret.

But what Pidge decided to reveal involved them and them only; Keith's secret involved someone else, whom they all happened to live with. You can't just exactly announce during dinner that you have feelings for one of your teammates and expect everyone to be completely cool with it. Revealing his secret with the rest of the team would cause a drastic shift in their dynamic, even if he never revealed who the object of his affection was. And of course, it would _absolutely_ get to the point that he'd have to say who it was just to get everyone off of his back, which would just change their dynamic even further.

What would Lance even say if he found out? Keith figured it would go one of two ways: Either Lance would become even cockier than he usually is and go out of his way to make Keith blush despite having no intentions of actually wanting something with him, or he'd avoid Keith completely because he'd find the situation too weird. It would be different if Lance just let him down, gently or otherwise; that he could handle (at least, he was partly confident he could). What he couldn't handle was Lance being so freaked out that _he_ was the one who liked him, because at the end of the day, he simply didn't like Keith in any capacity.

_"I don't actually hate you, you know."_ That sentence still rang in Keith's ears from time to time ever since it had been said to him. Was Lance being sincere when he had said that? He wanted to believe it, but...

"You're never going to learn to trust someone unless you give them the chance to earn your trust."

Keith blinked, startled. He had zoned out to the point that he had forgotten that Shiro was still in his room. "And what if I _do_ give them that chance and they end up breaking my trust anyway?"

Shiro leaned down a little to look Keith in the eyes. "If that happens, then you have the choice to either try and piece that trust back together or to turn them away. Trust is special because it's fragile, and sometimes it's _so_ fragile that we break it when we don't even mean to. But," he continued, "it's also strong—sometimes to the point that it's all we have to hold onto."

Keith was silent for a few moments. "So are you saying I need to tell everyone?"

"I'm not saying you need to tell _anyone._ I'm just saying that if you want to, then you shouldn't let your fear hold you back from doing so; that's all."

* * *

Shiro took his leave shortly after that, and now Keith was finally alone for the first time since he had woken up this morning. Usually being left alone with his thoughts was something he despised, but now, he was grateful for the opportunity. So much had happened between yesterday evening and this afternoon that he barely had time to process it all.

He liked Lance. He could admit that now, both to himself and to Shiro. Saying it in his head brought back the warm fluttering sensation from before, and he had to bite his bottom lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.

Why did it feel so good to say now if it had been so difficult to say before? Maybe it was just because the pressure of lying was finally off of his shoulders. Truthfully, that weight had been on him for so long that he had forgotten what it felt like to not have it. He'd spent months denying that he had a crush on his fellow Paladin, and finally admitting it just felt _good_. He said it again and again, and each time, a wave of relief and happiness washed over him. Was this how you were supposed to feel when you liked someone?

He tried his best to clear his head and focus his thoughts on what Shiro had said about trust. The speech may have been extremely longwinded, but the man knew what he was talking about. Keith _had_ to learn to stop being so afraid to trust someone. _Not everyone is going to abandon you,_ he said to himself. He groaned; now even his inner-voice was hounding him to step up to the plate.

But how do you go about letting someone in to the point that you can trust them? _You could try actually spending time with someone for once. Hunk's right, the 'lone-wolf' schtick is getting old._ Hunk. He thought back to the evening the two of them had spent in the kitchen and a small smile formed on his face. That _had_ been a good time, and the boy even lended Keith his ear in case he ever wanted to talk. He could see why the rest of the team flocked to him so easily; Hunk was pretty much everything you could ever want in a friend.

So what was stopping him from being friends with him? _Actual_ friends, and not just teammates. If he could trust Hunk enough to believe that he'd put Keith's safety above his own, following the cardinal Paladin rule, then why couldn't he trust him enough to be friends?

* * *

Unsurprisingly, he had managed to find Hunk in the kitchen, where he was searching high and low. "Need any help?" Keith asked in a tone that he _desperately_ tried to make sound warm and welcoming, but instead sounded stiff.

Hunk didn't seem phased by this, thankfully. "Oh hey, man! Nah, I'm good; just trying to find where I left that big soup pot..." He reached as far back into the cabinet as he possibly could. "Aaaand found it!" He pulled it out and let out a small _phew_. "Gonna make a mean stew for everyone tonight. Wear a helmet, 'cuz it's gonna blow your mind."

"I'll try and remember that," Keith said as he took a seat. "Do you need an extra pair of hands?"

"Not really," he said, pausing for a minute before he realized what Keith _actually_ wanted. "Oh-ho-ho! Someone misses being my kitchen assistant, eh? Sure, go ahead and start dicing... those things." He pointed to a group of soft, round blue objects. "I'm _preeeetty_ sure those are, like, space tomatoes or something."

"But are you sure these are okay to _eat_?"

"Absolutely!"

Keith cocked his eyebrow.

"Okay, so I'm only, like, seventy-percent sure, but I like those odds!"

Hunk smiled widely, though this didn't provide Keith with any reassurance that they weren't essentially cooking their death. Still, as before, he did what Hunk instructed him to. "Hey, can I ask you something?" He finally asked after a few moments of silence.

"Go for it."

"What's Lance like?"

Hunk stared at him, confused. "We've been in space for _months_ and you still don't know what he's like?"

"No, I mean..." Keith sighed. "What is he like when it's just the two of you?"

"I dunno," Hunk shrugged. "He's just a chill dude. Quotes a lot of bad movies, makes a lot of lame jokes, that kinda stuff. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," Keith said quietly. "Just trying to get a better read on him. I figure that if I do, we can stop fighting so much." He went back to slicing and dicing for a few more minutes of silence before he asked his next question. "Does he hate me?"

The question caught Hunk a little off-guard. "Do you _think_ he hates you?"

Keith glared at him. "Well, you know, in between the constant arguing and him always making fun of me, I guess _somehow_ the thought crossed my mind." His tone was more bitter than Hunk deserved, truthfully.

"Lance doesn't hate anybody. He just likes giving you a hard time. I dunno why, but he does. Do you hate him or something?"

"No!" Keith could feel his heart beating a little faster, and he tried his best to fight his urge to blush. "Why? Does _he_ think that _I_ hate _him_?"

Hunk stopped chopping whatever type of meat it was that he had on the cutting board and sat down his knife, looking Keith in the eyes. "I don't know. But you know who might? _Lance!_ You gotta ask him these kinds of questions, dude."

He nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry." He went back to slicing the (hopefully not poisonous) blue blobs. _You're not being a very good friend and you know it._ He let out a quiet groan of frustration. Why did he suck so badly at this? "Uh... so, how have you been?"

The question seemed to have perked Hunk up a little. "Oh, man, it was _insane_. So first of all..."

Keith listened closely as Hunk began to list off what had happened to him since the two last saw each other, laughing at the jokes that Hunk cracked in the process. By the time the two of them had finished talking, the ingredients had been fully prepared and Hunk dumped them into the pot along with an odd looking, purple sauce.

"Thanks for the help, man. You know, you're pretty good at this."

"Well, I _did_ live by myself for a good amount of time. I know my way around a kitchen, I guess." He cleared his throat. "I better get going... I'd still like to run a training course before the day is over."

"Sounds good, man," Hunk said with a happy nod. "And Keith?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't work yourself too hard. You deserve to relax sometimes."

He smiled as he left the room, happy to have had some quality time with his teammate. _No, he's more than that; he's your friend._ As he entered the training deck, he could only ask himself one question: Why couldn't it be this easy to talk to Lance?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our boy Keith is coming along! He just might be getting the hang of this whole socializing thing after all...
> 
> Had to pump this one out rather fast because I wanted to say that I managed to get two chapters completed this weekend. As always, comments are always appreciated; they're what motivate me, and each time I get one, I grin like a doofus. 
> 
> I'll be working all of this coming week, so it might not be until next Saturday or Sunday that a new chapter is posted; however, I might be able to juggle my responsibilities well enough to get two done this week.
> 
> Thanks for reading, everyone!


	5. Truths

Lance and Keith fit together perfectly. Lance nuzzled his head into the crook of Keith's neck and hugged him close. Keith had an arm wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him tight. They were like two matching puzzle pieces that had finally come together. It felt good; it felt right.

"I like this," Keith said as Lance nuzzled his neck, tickling him. "I like _us._ "

Lance shifted. He was straddling Keith now, and he gently kissed his forehead. "You know what I like?" He asked, his head moving lower. He gave him a proper kiss now. He went to pull away, but Keith pushed him back down for another kiss, because Lance's lips were _so_ amazing and _so_ soft that his kisses felt special—delicate. "I like _this_ ," Lance said as he started to move downwards, his kisses getting lower and lower until—

The sudden ringing of his alarm startled Keith. His face buried in his pillow, he fumbled around blindly until he finally was able to shut it off. He let out a loud groan. _Why_ did it have to go off when it did? Why couldn't his dream have lasted just a _few_ more moments?

It was all he could think about as he took his morning shower. The warm water felt good against his skin and helped soothe the aching in his bones. Yesterday's combat training with Shiro hadn't gone as smoothly as he had hoped. Despite his best efforts, the older man was still able to take him down as if it were nothing, and he wasn't one to hold his punches, either. But whatever; a few bruises didn't matter so long as Keith learned something, and what he learned was that he was a hypocrite. He had scolded Lance weeks ago for losing his cool in the heat of battle, yet in yesterday's sparring session, he had done the exact same thing.

To be fair, he only lost his cool because he had been so angry lately. Seeing Lance flirt with someone else (in this case, a _very_ thankful alien at the "space mall" who would have taken a nosedive after tripping, had Lance not been there to catch them and look like a suave gentleman in the process) was infuriating. It had always been an issue that bugged him to some degree, but it seemed that now, after he could admit that he had feelings for him, it _hurt_ to watch him lust after someone else.

And okay, so maybe he didn't actually have a right to be jealous, but since when did you need a permit to feel emotions? _That_ drove him crazy, too; ever since all of this had bubbled to the surface on the evening of Lance's nightmare, he had been so emotional. Sometimes it was a good thing, like when he was able to _really_ laugh at one of Pidge's jokes. Other times it was a bad thing, like just a few seconds ago when he punched the metal wall of the shower so hard in frustration that his hand now felt numb.

He didn't bother fixing his hair or putting on his jacket. He had purposefully woken up earlier than usual because he wanted to eat breakfast alone while everyone else was asleep. His plans for the day consisted of being alone in his room, wallowing in self-pity and daydreaming about a future he'd never have with a dumb idiot who'd never like him. This was why he was so surprised that he ran into Allura in the kitchen, where she was humming and helping herself to a bowl full of green gloop (none of the Paladins had been able to figure out _exactly_ what that stuff was).

"Oh, Keith!" She seemed as surprised to run into someone this morning as he did. "You look..." She paused. "Well, terrible, actually."

"Well, I guess members of royalty don't have to be charming all of the time," he said flatly.

"My apologies. I'm just used to seeing you looking more... lively. Is everything okay?"

He shrugged, not really answering her question as he grabbed a bowl and filled it with his own breakfast. "Sorry for being bitter; I'm just exhausted."

"I know the feeling," she said with a sigh. "These last few days have been intense, to say the least. Shiro's driving me mad, insisting that we look for the headquarters of the Blade of Marmora; but I just know that's going to be a trap. He's too trusting..."

Keith felt his stomach twist up into a knot as he thought about the dagger in his room. "You know," he said as he took a spoonful of his meal, "maybe Shiro's right. I know we've talked about this before, but not _all_ Galra have to be bad. There has to be some good ones out there, Allura..."

She scoffed. "And what have they contribu—no, never mind," she said with a small sigh. "I don't wish to talk about these things, especially so early in the day. There's a time and a place."

Keith simply replied, "I guess," before going back to his breakfast. There was an awkward tension between himself and Allura now, and he wasn't sure if she was even aware of it.

"I'm glad to see you out of your room, you know," she said with a smile. "I've noticed that you've been _much_ more sociable lately. To be honest, it's very refreshing to have your presence around."

_You say that now. But what if my question gets answered and you don't like the truth; are you going to find me refreshing to be around then?_ "Thanks." He glared down at the floor, careful not to make eye contact with her. Still, even if he had to walk on eggshells for the time being, he knew that Allura cared about him—for now, anyway. And so she didn't exactly deserve a cold shoulder. "It's nice to feel like I'm part of something more than just a team for once, you know?"

"Absolutely," she said with a nod. "And I'm glad to hear you say that. The bond between Paladins is something special—something sacred—and it should be cherished. "But... well, I just hope that Coran and I have made it clear that we're happy to have all of you in our lives. I think I speak for both of us when I say that the Lions couldn't have chosen better Paladins."

Keith smiled, if only briefly. He tried his best to look happy, but looking happy around her was difficult now. What would happen if she stopped seeing him as a friend and instead as an enemy? And if she'd see him as an enemy, did that mean that so would the rest of the team? Even Shiro Even Lance?

* * *

He was awoken from his nap by a loud banging outside of his door. This was _not_ how you knocked when you wanted to get someone's attention, and he was ready to scold Hunk for waking him up, but he froze when he opened the door. Hunk wasn't there; it was Lance who had been knocking so loudly. "Hey, do you have a minute?" He asked.

Keith shrugged, motioning for him to come inside. What on Earth did Lance want with him? It occurred to him that he had still never bothered to _actually_ get ready for the day and change out of his pajamas, and his face turned a slight shade of red from the embarrassment of his crush not seeing him at his prime.

Lance didn't seem to mind, though. "I wanted to talk to you about something." He plopped himself down on Keith's bed.

"Feel free to."

"I just wanted to say, y'know... thanks. For keeping your promise and not telling anyone about that night."

"Oh. Well, you don't have to thank me for that," Keith said as he took a seat on the bed as well. "It's no big deal. I'm a man of my word."

"But it _is_ a big deal. For me, at least. And it's not like I thought that I _couldn't_ trust you, it's just that... I dunno, I was just worried, I guess."

"Do I give you a reason to worry about trusting me?"

"No!" Lance shouted quickly. "I was worried that Pidge would tell someone, too. It doesn't have anything to do with you guys. I'm just really embarrassed about what happened," he said with a frown. "

Keith wanted _so_ badly to wrap his arms around him, to hug him and comfort him and try to get him to smile again. "Has it happened again?"

"Nah. I really think it was just a fluke. I've been having some good dreams lately, actually."

_That makes two of us._ "That's good." Keith looked over at him and he couldn't help to smile. Lance's lips looked like they were just as soft as they were in his dream. "I, uh..." _Come on. You can do this. You've saved entire planets; you can tell someone that you like them._ Except that he couldn't, because he was certain that if he opened his mouth to speak, he'd end up vomiting onto Lance's lap.

"Hey, are you okay? Your face is turning red."

"Just a little hot in here," Keith said as he tugged at the collar of his shirt. _Hnngh. Come on. Now's the perfect time. How often is it just the two of you?_ "Hey, Lance?"

"Mmhm?"

He bit his lip. He just couldn't say it. The words seemed to keep getting caught in his throat every time he tried to speak them. His heart was pounding so loudly in his ears that he could barely heart himself talk. _Just ease into the topic._ "How do you... flirt so... easily with other people?" He was surprised he managed to get the words out, considering how dry his throat was.

"Why do you wanna know?" Lance asked, leaning into Keith's personal space a little. He was excited now that the conversation had shifted from bad memories to a _much_ more fun topic. "Is there someone you're trying to impress?"

"N-no! I was just, you know, curious, is all..." His face was red hot, and it was in that moment he knew that he was completely screwed. He got flustered much too easily around Lance; and this time, it would prove to be his downfall.

"There _is!_ " Lance said with a laugh. "Oh man, you have the hots for Allura, don't you?"

"No!" He shouted defensively. "I don't have the hots for anyone! I was just... look, it was a dumb question so just forget it."

"Aw, c'mon, it's okay, you can trust me to keep your secret. I'm not gonna tell her!"

"Lance. It's _not_ Allura." His face was getting even hotter now. These weren't the ideal conditions to admit his crush. He wasn't dressed up nice, his hair was messy, his face was red, and he was sweating like crazy. If he was going to tell Lance that he liked him, he at least wanted to do it when he looked presentable.

"But it _is_ someone, right? Is it Hunk?" Lance let out a small gasp. "So _that's_ why you two have been spending so much time together!"

"Ugh!" Keith groaned. He was so frustrated that he wanted to rip out his hair. "It's not Hunk either! Can we _please_ just drop this? It's no one!"

"Oh yeah? Then why is your face as red as your lion?"

"I told you, it's just hot in here!"

" _Mmhmm,_ " Lance said as he folded his arms. "So let's see..." He began counting on his fingers. "It's not Allura, it's not Hunk, it's _definitely_ not Shiro or Coran, so..." He paused. " _Oh._ "

Keith grabbed him by his arm and pulled him out of his bed. "Out!" He ordered. "Get out of my room!"

" _O-ho-ho!_ "

"Lance. _Out_."

"I'll leave... if you say it." Lance was grinning wildly now; that cocky grin that Keith hated so much. He was absolutely relishing in this moment of misery for Keith. The shift in their dynamic seemed to be noticeable already, because Lane was acting as if he had Keith wrapped around his finger.

Keith didn't say it. Keith didn't say _anything_. He just stood there, glaring at him. If looks could kill, then Lance would be dead.

" _Fine,_ " Lance said with a sigh and a roll of his eyes. "I'll be good, I promise. Is that why you never wanna spend time with me?"

Silence.

"Well, how long _have_ you... you know..."

More silence.

"Oh, come on, Keith! We're both adults... _sorta_. You can at least have a conversation with me!"

"The reason I never want to spend time with you is because you're a jerk to me half the time we talk! And I don't know... awhile, I guess."

Lance pursed his lips. "Does anyone else know?"

"Shiro."

"Okay, so we'll keep it between the three of us," Lance said with a shrug. "It's not like it's a big deal."

"Lance, leave!" He was shouting now. _Loudly_. He couldn't remember the last time that he had been this genuinely infuriated. Because it _was_ a big deal. Lance had plenty of crushes—always had crushes, it seemed—but this was Keith's first. Lance hadn't spent nights feeling hopelessly lost and confused. Lance didn't spend the last few months with a heart that ached every time it took a beat. Lance didn't just get robbed of being able to admit that he had feelings for someone on his own terms. Lance didn't just get his heart broken by being told his genuine feelings were "no big deal."

"...Okay," Lance said meekly as he finally left. He turned around at the door and started to say something, to apologize maybe, but he kept his lips tight.

Keith was feeling a whirlwind of emotions. On one hand, it felt good for the truth to finally come out; on the other hand, it had gone even worse than he could have ever imagined. Lance declaring his feelings as being "no big deal" was somehow even more painful than Lance feeling different towards him, and somehow felt more annoying than Lance holding it over Keith's head and constantly teasing him about it. _Those_ reactions would require for Lance to actually care about Keith and his feelings, which he obviously didn't.

He took the dagger his father gave him out of its hiding place and examined it closely. So Lance didn't care about him. Big deal. As he looked at the knife, he reminded himself that there were more important matters at hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I'm being honest, I'm a little iffy on how this chapter turned out. I've been pressed with my work and have been trying to make sure that I get at least ONE chapter out this week, and I'm not exactly as proud of it as I am with the last two. However, I felt that dragging out Keith's pining for Lance for yet /another/ chapter would have made for boring reading. 
> 
> Even if you're as iffy on this chapter as I am, do know that I have something exciting planned for the next chapter, as it and the rest of the fic will take place after the events of season two's finale! 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading. <3


	6. Guilt

The castle seemed too crowded now that members of the Blade were there. There were too many people talking, to the point that voices were overlapping. Keith couldn't stand it. He was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed; he needed a break. He debated going to his room, the only place he really felt safe, but that seemed too cramped. And so he decided that the lounge would be the best place to go and get some air.

He laid down on the sofa and closed his eyes. There was so much to process in such a short amount of time. They were going to launch their attack on Zarkon _so_ soon. He had been tasked with Hunk to collect scaultrite and he knew he'd have to leave soon. But needed just a _few_ moments to himself.

They all reacted differently when he told them the truth about his Galra ancestry: Neither Shiro nor Pidge seemed too bothered by it, though they definitely couldn't hide their surprise at the revelation; Hunk was just plain confused and began to ask a million questions that Keith didn't the answers to; Coran did his best to hide how obviously awkward he now felt; and Allura looked _heartbroken._ The image of her face after hearing the truth seemed to be burned into his brain. Just thinking about it made him feel so ashamed and sick to his stomach.

Then there was Lance, who had said nothing. Not a single word. He didn't shoot him a nasty glare, though he didn't look sympathetic either. He just acted like nothing had changed. The problem was, _everything_ had changed, and no one could deny that. It would be stupid to act like they could go about their lives as if everything was normal (or, at least, what _they_ considered normal).

The two of them had barely spoken since Keith's forced confession. When they did, it seemed to be only when they were out in the field. In the heat of battle, it felt like the situation never happened; the adrenaline rush of fighting overrode any emotions the two of them might have been feeling, and their focus was on saving others rather than dwelling on what had happened. When around the rest of the team, they both did their best to act normal. It was when they passed each other in the hallways, for example, that the uneasy tension became palpable.

"So this is where you've been hiding out."

Keith didn't need to open his eyes to see who was talking to him; he recognized the voice easily. It was a voice he had fantasized saying words to comfort him, a voice that invaded his dreams—that voice belonged to Lance. "What do you want?" His tone was cold, but he didn't care. He was long past the point of caring about how he conducted himself, because the moment he revealed his Galra lineage, the moment he felt as if he had severed the bonds with his teammates—his only real family—for good.

Lance walked over towards him and took a seat in the chair that sat beside the couch. He let out a small sigh. "So. You're Galra, huh?"

"Apparently."

"You know, I don't really think it's a big deal."

There it was again. That phrase. That phrase that showed just how absolutely _oblivious_ Lance was as to how things impacted the lives of others. He sighed. "Lance, just go." He was too emotionally drained to yell, and the last thing he needed before a mission was a nasty fight.

"Look. I'm not trying to say that it's not a big deal for _you._ I just mean, like... it's not a big deal for me. But I get it; I mean, I'm not stupid. This changes everything for you and I _get that_ , man, I do... but..." He struggled to find the words to finish his sentence. "I mean, you're still _Keith,_ y'know?"

"Right," he said bitterly, "because everyone on the team _definitely_ doesn't look at me differently now. You were there. You saw Coran. And you saw how Allura..." He thought about her face again, how angry and betrayed she looked, and a wave of guilt washed over him.

"Just give them some time. They have reason to hate the Galra Empire, but that doesn't mean that they hate _Galra,_ no matter what Allura says. You _know_ her. She's not like that. I mean, look, we have Galra in the castle right now!"

"Yeah, and she's not exactly thrilled about it." Lance didn't have a reply to that because he knew he couldn't deny it.

"Look... about the other day—"

"Lance, not now. That's the _last_ thing I feel like talking about."

"You at least owe me the chance to explain!"

Keith opened his eyes and glared at him. "I don't owe you _anything._ "

Lance started to protest, but he stopped. The two of them stared at each other for a little bit, neither of them speaking a word. Lance looked pitiful; Keith looked hurt. Finally, Lance spoke up. "Can't I just apologize?"

"You want to apologize?" Keith scoffed. "An apology isn't going to do anything. You _hurt_ me, Lance. I'm not interested in your apology."

"Oh," he said softly. Keith could swear that he saw Lance's eyes start to glisten, but he didn't care; let Lance feel as bad as he did. _You know you don't mean that._ "Are we even friends anymore?"

"Were we friends to begin with?" He regretted saying it the moment the words left his mouth.

Lance got out of his chair and walked out of the room quietly, and watching him go made Keith feel even more guilty than he already did. _He tried to cheer you up. He tried to apologize. You couldn't let him do that?_ He sighed, trying to collect himself. He didn't need to think about this right now; he had a mission to prepare for. He only hoped that his time with Hunk wouldn't be as disastrous as this had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just something I churned out in about half an hour or so. I had planned for the sixth chapter to take place after the events of the season two finale, but I woke up this morning thinking it would be good to have a small piece that bridged the gap between chapter five and the battle against Zarkon, and so I decided to write this before work. I know it's super short, but hey, sometimes a lot of things go down in a small amount of time!
> 
> I know there's been a focus on angst lately, but I /promise/ that fluff is coming. Right now, though, these two dummies are having a rough patch that they need to get through.
> 
> As always, comments are much appreciated, and thanks for reading my dumb writing!


	7. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as a heads up: Keith has an anxiety attack and considering how I'm prone to them, I wrote from experience. So you know... reader discretion is advised. You won't be missing much by skipping a few paragraphs, though, so don't worry if you need to do that.

"There's still no trace of him. I'm not picking up any signal," Allura said. The team had gathered onto the bridge over an hour ago, brainstorming possibilities as to what could have happened to make someone just _vanish_ out of thin air.

After some silence, Pidge was the first one to think what they all were dreading out loud. "Are we sure that... there's a signal to find?" Their voice was quiet, as if they were ashamed to even bring up the idea.

"Of course there is! Don't talk like that!" Keith snapped back at them. "Allura, scan for him again."

She sighed. "Keith, I want to find him just as much as you do. But there just aren't any traces that we can find. I can't keep trying to—"

"You have to! He's out there somewhere! We have to do something!"

Hunk cleared his throat. "What if Pidge _is_ ri—"

"Well they _aren't._ He's not..." He took a deep breath, trying his best to maintain his composure. "Look: he is out there somewhere. And we need to find him."

"There's nothing we can go on, Keith," Allura said. "If he's out there, he's going to need to send us some sort of signal—an SOS of some kind. Until then... there's nothing we can do."

He wasn't infuriated so much as he was livid. "I can't believe all of you are giving up so quickly! After _everything_ he's done for _all_ of us and you're done so soon? Just like that?"

"What do you expect from us?!" Allura shouted back in frustration. She was tired from the battle she had fought herself, and Keith's lack of control over his emotions wasn't something she had the energy to deal with.

He didn't say anything. What _did_ he expect from them? He knew there was nothing that could be done; he knew that they needed to come up with a new search method. But that meant there would be time wasted on _not_ searching for Shiro. He couldn't accept that.

He thought back to months ago when the two of them were stranded after the wormhole incident, where he had to see his mentor so battered and bruised, fighting for his life. And he was terrified that now the same thing was happening, only this time, no one would be there to save him.

What if Pidge was right? What if there was no signal to be found? No one knew exactly what happened during the last few moments of the battle; there had been so much going on all at once. It was completely possible that whatever happened to Shiro was lethal—one final blow from Zarkon to not only Voltron, but the universe as a whole, because killing Shiro meant killing one of the universe's defenders. One final blow from Zarkon ensuring that Voltron could never be formed again. One final blow from Zarkon ensuring that his legacy of pain and annihilation would forever be felt by those that opposed him. One final blow from Zarkon that made him victorious even in his defeat.

Keith wanted to say something, anything, but it suddenly felt like his chest was being crushed by an immense amount of weight. Tears were swelling in his eyes. He was breathing faster, his heart was thumping faster, and so many thoughts were rushing through his head—thoughts that he didn't ever want to have. He had never felt like this before. Whatever was happening to him was _terrifying,_ and he needed to get out of there. He needed to get back to his room, where it was safe and he could be alone.

So he didn't respond to Allura with words, but with action; he ran out as fast as he could, ignoring the shouts of his name that echoed throughout the hallways, his focus being solely on getting to his safe place as quickly as possible. And when he got there, he sat on his bed and tried to think of anything other than Shiro, or Zarkon, or his team. Anything that made him feel something other than this.

_No. Not him,_ he told himself when images of Lance popped into his head. _Focus on something else._ But he couldn't. His mind seemed to keep circling back to him. And it wasn't just his face that intruded his thoughts, but moments the two of them had spent together. Their last private interaction seemed to replay in his head, and he felt sick to his stomach recalling how bitter he had been and how he had said things he didn't mean.

And when he did finally get Lance off of his mind, he thought only of the fact that Galra blood flowed through his veins. He thought of how this connected him to Zarkon. Zarkon, the man who murdered Shi— _no. He's not dead. He's not._

His door swished open. In his rush to get to his room, he had forgotten to lock it. And he wish that he had, because of course it would be _Lance_ who showed up. It couldn't have been Hunk, or Pidge, or Allura, or Coran; it had to be the one person on the team who he couldn't even look in the eye.

Lance had a glass of water in his hand and he gave it to Keith, who suddenly realized just how dry his mouth was. "Here," he said as he placed the cup in Keith's shaking grip. "I thought you could use this." He took a seat next to him, not saying a word as he watched Keith slowly empty the glass.

"Thanks," he said between heavy breaths.

"Just take some deep breaths. _Slowly_."

Keith did as he was told, because at this point, he was willing to do anything if it meant alleviating some of his anxiety. A few minutes passed, and then a few more, and suddenly it felt like it had been at least half an hour of doing nothing but what Lance had advised in complete silence, with Lance at his side the entire time. He could feel his heartbeat slow down, and soon the tightness in his chest seemed to loosen.

"You feeling any better?" Lance asked. His voice was soft but his tone wasn't patronizing; in fact, it was comforting.

Keith nodded. "A little bit, yeah."

"We're all worried about what happened to Shiro. But we're not going to be able to do anything about it if we don't stay calm."

"I know," Keith said with a heavy sigh. "I just—I don't know what happened back there. I need to go and apologize to the Princess and Pidge." He started to get up, but Lance gently pushed him back down.

"No, it's fine; they're not upset. They just want to make sure you're okay. We _all_ wanted to make sure you're okay."

"So what," Keith asked, "you drew the shortest straw and had to be the one to come looking for me?" _Stop being so hateful._

Lance didn't pay the comment any mind. "I needed to make sure you were okay with my own eyes; that's all." He paused, trying to find the right words to say next. "Look, Keith... I'm _really_ sorry. About everything. I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings, I jus—"

"Can we please not talk about this?" Keith felt bad enough as it was. He didn't need this right now.

"We _have_ to talk about it," Lance insisted firmly. He gazed down on the floor, not wanting to look at the other boy. "When you decided to infiltrate the ship... I mean, _why_ would you do that? You _knew_ how risky it was. You could have been killed."

Keith shrugged. "I had to do what I had to do. We all know the risks that come with being Paladins."

"I think you just wanted to prove that you're not like other Galra. Which is a _stupid_ reason to do something like that." Now _Lance_ was the one who was shaking. "If something had happened to you..." He let his words trail off because his voice was starting to shake as badly as he was.

When Keith looked at him, he could see how Lance's eyes were wet with oncoming tears that glistened under the dim light of his room. He suddenly felt like he had been punched in the gut. "Lance..."

The Blue Paladin cleared his throat and tried to make his voice as steady as possible, even though he could feel warm tears start to stream down his cheeks. "If something had happened to you and you thought that I didn't care about how you felt, then I would have hated myself. Forever."

"That wouldn't have happened. I know you didn't do anything on purpose," Keith said, trying to reassure him.

"We both know that's a lie." Admittedly, it was. If something _had_ happened to Keith, he would have thought for sure that his feelings towards Lance had seemed trivial to him; clearly that wasn't the case. "So I just want you to know that I'm glad you told me. And I want you to know that..." He bit his lip, finding it hard to continue the rest of his sentence.

"To know what?" Keith was holding onto his every word with bated breath.

"That I care about you. A lot." Lance blinked, and now more tears seemed to be flowing. He wiped his cheeks with his sleeve and sniffled.

"So you...?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." It was all he could say really, because he definitely hadn't expected Lance to feel that way about him, let alone _admit_ to it.

Lance put his arm around Keith and pulled him in close. Neither of them said anything else for the next hour or so; they didn't need to. They would look for Shiro, and they would find him. They both knew that. But right then, in that moment, they were just glad that they had managed to finally find each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope none of you are lactose-intolerant considering the amount of cheese you just ate by reading the end of this chapter. I know it's another short one, but I wanted to go ahead and publish it on the weekend when most of you are free to read it. And I would have felt bad about waiting until next week to post it.
> 
> Anyway, I think I'm putting Surface Wounds on a temporary hiatus. I'm debating how I'm going to continue it; I may decide to write chapter eight next week and diverge from the canon, or I might wait until Season 3 airs in September. This fic has been taking place in between episodes, and part of me wants to continue doing that, even if it means not visiting these goobers for awhile. Surface Wounds definitely isn't over, though—there's still more to Keith and Lance's story in this fic that I want to tell. But I think that, if I do decide to wait until September, then I've ended the first arc on a (hopefully) satisfying note. 
> 
> All of this being said, even if I don't continue this story for a handful of months, I'm not done with writing fic in general. There are a few one-shot ideas I have in mind, and not all of them are Klance-based, so be on the lookout for those!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! It means the absolute world to me. And let me know if you'd rather wait until fall for more of this fic so it can be based on the canon, or if you'd rather I diverge from it. I'll take all feedback into consideration!


End file.
